Warning: Violence, Language, Possible Sexual Stuff once I get more into this~

Alright, so this is my first Hetalia fic! I might as well start off with my OTP, USUK. I seriously love them so much, words cannot express my love (kinda awkward cause this will have lots of words in it). I was stalking someone's tumblr (a lot of it is USUK) and it was actually physically painful to keep scrolling because... I think you get my point.

So I got the idea for this fic from the link below, and I seriously couldn't resist the Bodyguard x Assassin idea. I absolutely NEED you guys to tell me how I did and if you want me to go with it and write more. I probably will anyway. Thanks! (Just get rid of parentheses for the link.)

(sweet-land-of-libertea)(.tumblr).(com/)post/37192054362/quick-sketchlation-from-kkrs-new-sketch-log


Esch-sur-Alzette, Luxembourg; December 31, 2012; 11:04 PM

The buzzing in my ears ceased. I adjusted my earpiece impatiently. I didn't want to waste any time. I was finally part of the big league.

Anytime now.

"J-Jones? Jones, do you copy?"

"This is Jones, I copy."

"What is your position?"

"The roof, sir."

"Don't start smart-assing me, boy."

"Apologies, sir."

I shivered. God, was it freezing up there. I adjusted my thin blazer, fixing the bite-size pocket that was supposed to hold who knows what. I explained to Chief how close I was to the target, my "guesstimating" spot on, as usual. I adjusted my scarf for the fifth time that hour. I was almost nervous. I could hear my voice shaking. Why was my voice shaking? This wasn't my first mission. My colored contacts itched. My shoes seemed too small. I sighed.

"Just tired, Jones?"

"That must be the case."

"Keep your head up. This one shouldn't take long. He's an old hag. As usual, call in if anything unexpected occurs. Good luck to you, Jones."

"Yes, sir."

I slipped the blazer forward to cover more of my torso. I rubbed my hands and covered my ears. I could feel that the Chief was wrong. This was going to be a long night.

I silently dropped from the roof, quietly landing in front of the east door. No one was around. Everyone was inside. I casually slipped in, smiling pleasantly as the band played a faintly familiar tune.

I was simply late to the party. Took the long way. Traffic. These people knew me, sadly. These were reasonable excuses. It was unfortunate that I would never see them again. These people were actually likable, no matter how social. They made me laugh; I had drinks with them.

Chief trusted me enough to let me form fairly strong bonds with these people. Makes my performance all the better and more believable. I knew the old hag's sister, Auréliia, and her boyfriend of four years, Toni, who was afraid of commitment. The hag had two sons, David and Christian, and I had met the eldest's wife, Leah, and their three daughters, Lux, Victoria, and Elisabeth. Nice girls. Decent singers. I remember having brunch with the old hag's cousin, Charles-Xavier. I went to his daughter's football game. She had scored two goals that day.

But never once did my facade break. Not once did it slightly crumble, wear, or erode. I had been keeping this up for months. Most of my other missions lasted this long. I was one of the best actors in the force. Not only that, but I had a pretty decent wardrobe changing time. From one outfit to the other was about a minute ten. Forty five seconds, if I was in a rush.

This should have been my last night on this case. The hag would die, tonight. He wasn't all that popular in this family anyway.

I greeted Christian jovially, complimenting his wife and explaining the cause of my absence. He nodded happily, drunk, and gestured to the wall-length bar. The hag was a fan of drinking, after all. I had been to his house only once or twice before. And yet, I knew every nook and cranny here.

I ordered a drink and sat down at the bar. I took a sip of whatever he had given me. Wow. Strong.

I looked out at the crowd, talking, dancing, and singing. Everything was so pleasant, so calming, so genuine.

I couldn't stand it.

I need to make this quick.

I made sure to greet some of the hag's sober friends so I had a reliable alibi. They waved a bittersweet goodbye, saying that they'll miss me when I leave for America.

He should have been in his study. Honestly, the amount of time he spent in there was eye-opening. I quickly retreated to the top floor bathroom. No one was there. Everyone else was at least three floors down. I flew in, flipping my jacket inside out and messing with my hair. I took out my colored contacts and slipped on my second pair of glasses. I put on a tie and a turned my belt to have the other side facing out, complimenting my outfit quite nicely, if you ask me. After making all the necessary adjustments, I looked into the mirror and started whispering to myself, altering my temporary accent slightly and speaking a pinch lower and huskier. Nobody would believe that Mickael Sauveur did anything suspicious that night. He was downstairs, drinking, then went upstairs to the bathroom. He'll be down shortly. Once I decided I was ready, I stepped out.

I was now a new person entirely.

I headed down the south wing, up the staircase to the right, proceeding through the hallway until I found the second door to my left. Here it was. I ran over the plan in my head again. I was ready.

I slowly opened the door, careful not to step were the creaky floorboards were. I saw him. He was so close, craning over a thick dictionary with a small stack of papers directly adjacent. Little shelves for books were everywhere and in the most random places. Light bulbs hung here and there from the ceiling, giving off a warm glow. Everything was just as I remembered.

I slowly reached for my pocket knife. I let it slide out as I took another step. I loosened my scarf. Another step. I pushed my glasses up. Another step. I was close now. He didn't look up. He was completely absorbed in whatever pointless obsession he had at the moment. Another step. I was within arm's distance. I could do it now. Another step. I could hear his breathing. This one shouldn't take long. What was he thinking about? One last inch forward. Now.

I hurriedly draped the scarf around his mouth, pulling on both sides, tightening it around his face, stopping his breathing from the mouth and all chances of yelling for help. He turned. I could see the alarm in his eyes. He had recognized me. I spun him around to make thing easier. I delivered a quick double-handed blow to his neck, stopping all flow of air. I slid out the knife. I barely even cringed at the sound of sliced flesh.

There was very little mess to clean up.


You know how those action characters say that everything happened in slow motion? Yeah, that doesn't happen. Everything happens too quickly, really.

I knew all the little secret passages he had in this house. Under his desk was a garbage shoot. It was going to be gross, I knew this for sure. I had changed the routing of the shoot when I had helped him with "home improvements" a month ago. This would lead him straight to HQ, where the body would be easily and safely disposed of.

Something was off. Of that, I was certain.

I searched his pockets. Three dollars. A ticket stub from the movie he went to see last night. The I found it. I grabbed the tightly folded piece of paper and grabbed the drafts he had on his desk. I searched through the old man's files. It was all here. I had hit the jackpot.

Once the body wad disposed of, I clicked my pocket knife shut and slid it into a flap in the back of my boot. The earpiece was no longer needed. I put it in my pocket. I slid the files through a much more slender and unnoticeable slot directly above the first. It lead to the same place. Chief would have all the information he needed in a blink. I casually strolled through the door and back into the bathroom. I cleaned the knife and changed my clothes back, taking my time for a change. I had nothing to fear.

Once back out, I decided that it would easier to just leave altogether and not have to explain anything to anyone. I sauntered over to the final flight of stairs where I could reunite with the roof. I regretted it immediately. It had gotten even colder. Not by much, but enough to make a difference. I could faintly here the instrumental version of Iron and Wine's Flightless Bird, American Mouth, a personal favorite of mine. I decided to stay at the manor a bit longer.

I jumped back down, only to catch the eye of someone. A someone with large, blonde eyebrows, piercing green eyes, and shaggy, sandy blonde hair. An attractive someone with a semi-muscular build, nothing much in terms of physical buff, but held himself like the epitome of authority. An attractive, possibly important someone who was standing below. No.

He was waiting below.

What did he want? I didn't have time to converse with more people. Actually, I just didn't want to. That was a perfectly good reason anyway. But what would I tell him? He had just watched me fall from a five-story building in utter peacefulness. Not exactly another day in Luxembourg. I kept deadpanning.

I might as well keep at it.

It was a shit decision, even though the alternative would have been totally fake and much worse. This guy seemed to know a thing or two about acting and how people can give themselves away. I had no chance against him. The devilish look in his eyes just threw me off even more. They glinted a beautiful, smug emerald. His pale, slightly cracked lips curved into a diabolical simper.

Dammit.

"You do that often?" His accent wasn't Luxembourgian. Very thick. British.

Shit, how do I respond? He's wearing some sort of military uniform...

"You got any badges to go with those dress blues?"

I tried, alright?

"My clothes are green."

I mentally kicked myself in the balls. That much I deserved. You, sir, are a dumbfuck.

I stopped walking. Slowly, then all at once. He smiled warmly, though I could see little, sharp canines in his mischievous grin.

Fuck, that's what he wants.

"I knew that." I turned to him. "Well, if you don't mind-"

"Actually, I do." I didn't know what was happening, but he took my hand. My pulse quickened and my eyes widened as he pulled me closer. Two of his fingers rested on my wrist as his eyes flicked up and down. He gently, lightly, hesitantly, placed a hand on my hip.

"May I have this dance?"

Is it safe to say that I didn't feel all that violated?

We, um, danced. It was actually pretty nice. It was even helpful that he took the lead, since I'm not really one for dancing. I'm glad I had been wearing really nice clothes. I shouldn't have been feeling this casual.

He danced very slowly to Iron and Wine. He was the first to break the silence.

"Why did you attend this party?"

I didn't even miss a beat.

"I'm a friend of Benji's. This will be my last time seeing him before I leave for America."

"Wrong."

He had caught me off guard. The smugness in his eyes had shown that he knew that he was right. I tried my best to look offended. I pulled away slightly. His grip tightened ever so noticeably.

"Excuse me?"

"Why did you need to go upstairs? The party's on the first floor."

"I was just about to leave. I went to say my goodbyes. Then as I was leaving, I ran into you." My voice and his got faster the more we argued.

"And you left by jumping off the roof?"

"I'm always told that I live on the edge."

"To the point of endangering your life?"

"Go big or go home."

"You didn't think about how this would affect people you know?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Isn't there anyone waiting for you?"

"E-Excuse me?"

"Is anyone waiting for you in America? Family? Friends?"

Silence. He must have figured that he had struck a nerve.

"Wrong," I muttered.

The man hesitated, then softly asked, "Then why'd you do it?"

I didn't respond. I at least had a little bit of dignity left after it was sharply cut down in a matter of seconds. I was pathetic. I was a pitiful excuse for a spy. Hell, the only reason I had trusted the Chief was that he payed a pretty penny for a difficult, successful mission. But that was the thing.

I didn't trust anyone. And that was my problem.

I loosened my grip further as he held on tighter. Why didn't he just leave me here? All signs of victory over me had left his face. He actually looked... sympathetic. Not that it mattered. I didn't need his or anyone else's sympathy. I finally tried pulling away. For a second I thought I saw him reaching back out to me.

"I gotta go."

I slowly detached myself from the man and had begun to turn around when he spoke up one last time.

"My name's Arthur, by the way."

I kept walking.


Alfred's apartment, Luxembourg; January 1, 2013; 1:43 AM

I threw up the shower switch, watching the freezing water slowly warm up. The water was too loud as it hit the linoleum too hard. The doors made little squeaking sounds when I opened them. My light bulbs were dim and my refrigerator was small. I always lost the batteries to everything in the little nooks and crannies where I put all my stuff.

I loved my apartment.

I stripped down and stepped in the shower, the now boiling water sizzling off my skin like fresh frying bacon. I didn't move. It was so relaxing.

I thought I had heard a thumping noise in the kitchen. I lived by myself. I decided to ignore it.

Once the hot water had begun to run out and my skin had begun to fold ever so slightly, I turned the water off and stepped out. The mirror had steamed up and everything that was on the floor was soaking wet. I stepped out in the driest towel I could find and turned to the room to the left. I sauntered into my room, shaking my hair out and putting on sweats and my real, prescription, half-wired glasses.

I heard the noise again.

"Alright, who is it this time," I muttered to myself as I made my way to the door. I opened it to the empty hallway. I heard it again, muffled this time. I whipped around and grabbed a dirty frying pan on the stove next to me.

"Alright, who the hell-"


Word Count: around 2,467 (longer this time, yayyyy)

MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH A CLIFFHANGER ENDING

The reson I couldn't post another OHSFT chapter (not that anyone cared) was that I had been so worked up with this! I have been obsessed with this idea and have probably come up with at least three alternate endings and plots!

Anyway, this was NOT my idea. Credit is due up above in the little bold area at the top. :)

- Adriana